


Tongue-Tied

by karcathy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, coffee shop AU, i mean that was the jumping off point, i shouldn't tag ramble this is a bad idea, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-22 07:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10692114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karcathy/pseuds/karcathy
Summary: In which Fareeha is a useless lesbian, Angela is a shameless flirt, and they're brought together by a certain teen who gives out peoples' numbers without permission.





	1. Chapter 1

When she first got the job at the coffee shop in the hospital, Fareeha had joked that she was doing it to marry a handsome doctor. Her mum had just rolled her eyes, but she seemed happy that Fareeha was moving on. Returning to civilian life wasn't easy, she knew from experience, and Fareeha was particularly dissatisfied at being removed from combat. The coffee shop, however, was just the right level of hectic madness to make her feel useful. And the doctors, well – some of them might just be tempting. One in particular was more distracting than she cared to admit. Her blonde hair was just a little too short to all stay in her ponytail, especially at the end of a long shift, and the strands that fell out framed a face that Fareeha may have once described as angelic. She knew her name was Angela, although she still struggled to take her order, and that she was a consultant in A&E who drank more coffee than was healthy in her quest to work harder than anyone else in the hospital. Other than that, however, she was barely capable of saying a word to her beyond the barista script that was now burned into her brain permanently. Even so, she still hoped their shifts would align more often than not, and if her heart sped up a little every time she caught a glimpse of blonde hair, that was no one else's business.

On this particular day, her shift had started early, and the few people in the hospital concourse looked drained, as if more of them hadn't slept last night than had. She saw a blonde ponytail approaching and her heart leapt in her chest, and she was very glad that she didn't currently have a customer in front of her.

“A regular black Americano, please,” said Angela, smiling warmly at the barista despite the heavy dark circles under her eyes than spoke of a sleepless night.

“Uh, yes, um, of course,” stuttered Fareeha, fumbling with the till as her co-worker rolled her eyes, “Is that all?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Fareeha managed to give her the correct change, almost dropping it in the process, and then turned quickly to join her teenage co-worker at the machine, although that was hardly necessary.

“Honestly, Fareeha,” she said, just loud enough that Fareeha worried Angela could hear her, “You utterly useless lesbian.”

“ _Hana_ ,” hissed Fareeha, glancing over her shoulder at the doctor, “I-”

“I swear to god if you don't ask her out soon-”

“I'm not going to ask her out!” said Fareeha, keeping her voice low, “I just- I, uh- Oh, I don't know.”

“Useless lesbian,” said Hana, rolling her eyes as she clipped the lid onto the coffee.

She paused, a cunning look coming into her eyes, then grabbed the Sharpie lying on the counter and quickly scribbled something on the cup. Before Fareeha could read it, Hana had handed the cup over to the doctor with a friendly smile.

“Oh god, what did you do?” asked Fareeha, watching Angela walk away with a horrified expression.

“Honestly,” said Hana, giving her a dirty look, “You should be thanking me.”

Fareeha spent most of the rest of her shift trying to get Hana to tell her what she wrote, but the teenager was impossible to reason with. It was only after she'd returned home and pulled out her phone to check her notifications that she saw the text from an unknown number, and realised, half in hope and half in dread, what it was.

_[received 09:32] Hi! You're Fareeha, right? The barista?_

She swallowed, then quickly typed out a reply before she could lose her nerve.

_[sent 11:41] I am. It seems you have me at a disadvantage here._

Although she was almost certain she knew who was texting her, it never hurt to be sure. She waited nervously for the response, hoping against hope it would be quick, and then was startled by the notification noise anyway.

_[received 11:52] Oh! Right. I'm Angela. From the hospital._

Who else? Fareeha took a deep breath, steadying her nerves before she replied.

_[sent 11:54] Right._

She stared at her phone blankly, searching for some way to carry on the conversation, then jumped as it chimed again.

_[received 11:54] Do you give your number out to all of your customers, or am I special?_

Fareeha laughed, not sure whether to curse or thank her gregarious co-worker. That would probably be decided by how well the rest of this conversation went.

_[sent 11:57] You're special._

She hit send before realising how that might be taken, then quickly tried to backtrack.

_[sent 11:58] I mean, it wasn't me! My co-worker wrote my number on your cup, I had nothing to do with it._

She closed her eyes, wondering how she could salvage a conversation that was already heading off the rails after only a few texts.

_[received 12:00] And here I was, hoping the cute barista was into me ;)_

Fareeha stared at the winky face for a long moment, wondering whether it was an accident or a genuine flirtation. Eventually, she decided it was worth the excruciating embarrassment of attempting to flirt back.

_[sent 12:05] The cute barista is too awkward to flirt with pretty doctors._

_[received 12:05] You're lucky your friend is prepared to do it for you, then._

Fareeha could feel her ears heating up as she blush bright red, burying her face in her hands and taking a moment to compose herself before she could reply.

_[sent 12:09] I guess so. Doesn't mean I won't kick her ass for it anyway._

The flirtatious text banter continued until Angela admitted she had to sleep before her next shift, and Fareeha kept grinning at her phone for a while after that, staring at the final _Goodnight_ text until her adult brain kicked in and reminded her she had other things to do besides sitting around and being, in Hana's words, a useless lesbian.

Her next shift was an afternoon, and she spent most of it more than a little distracted, her attention focused even more than usual on her search for a blonde ponytail. Even so, Angela somehow managed to slip into the line without her noticing until they were face to face, and Fareeha was once more stumbling over her words.

“It's nice to see you again,” said Angela, smiling flirtatiously and leaning over the counter.

“Yes- um- ah, what would you like to drink?” stammered Fareeha, feeling her ears heat up and hoping her skin was dark enough to hide the worst of her blushing.

“Hmm,” said Angela, peering thoughtfully over her head at the menu and chewing somewhat distractingly on her lower lip, “What would you recommend?”

“I, um, uh,” Fareeha stuttered, her entire knowledge of beverages fleeing her traitorous brain, replaced only by thoughts of how soft the doctor's blonde her looked and how it shone under the light.

Angela smiled warmly, waiting for a response, and Fareeha was glad Hana wasn't there to mutter _useless lesbian_ at her again.

“I usually have tea,” she said lamely, “Earl Grey.”

“I'm not usually a tea person,” Angela said lightly, “But I think I could acquire a taste for it.”

She winked, and Fareeha could feel her whole face turning red. She briefly wished that the ground would swallow her whole before putting the doctor's order through her till and then turning to the next customer, who seemed entirely oblivious to the complete and utter murder he had just witnessed.

She had another text waiting for her after this shift.

_[received 15:37] Still cute and awkward, I see._

She laughed, relieved her complete inability to carry a conversation seemed to have come off as endearing.

_[sent 17:52] Sadly, yes. You'll have to teach me to flirt like you do._

_[received 17:57] Oh, I could never do that. Who knows who you'd go off and flirt with then?_

Fareeha laughed. She hesitated before replying, but decided to be daring.

_[sent 18:02] You, I hope._

She stared at her phone, waiting for a reply.

_[received 18:04] You're getting better already!_

_[received 18:05] Are you ready to try it in person, or will you still be tongue-tied if I decide to take you out?_

Fareeha blushed, then dragged up the courage to send another daring reply.

_[sent 18:09] Only one way to find out._

The details were settled over a flurry of texts, the two of them comparing schedules to find a window for dinner – which ended up being lunch – and Angela continuing to gently tease Fareeha about her awkward flirting. After the date was settled, Fareeha stared blankly at her phone for a moment, not quite able to process the fact that she now had a date with the pretty doctor she had a massive crush on. Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone ringing, and she smiled when she saw an unflattering selfie of her and her mum flash up on the screen.

“Mum,” she said, answering the phone, “Remember when I said I was planning on marrying a handsome doctor? Well...”

By the time their date rolled around, Fareeha was almost farcically anxious. It was just a casual lunch date, nowhere fancy, but even so, she spent about four hours trying to decide on an outfit, which was especially impressive given the still military sparseness of her wardrobe. She eventually settled on something plain – jeans and a button-down shirt – and then spent several minutes finger-combing her hair and muttering reassurances to herself before setting out.

Angela was already seated when she arrived at the restaurant, which settled one of her anxieties (how to greet her: was a hug too forward? Would a handshake just be weird?) immediately as she slid into the seat opposite.

“You look... Wow,” she said, taking a moment too long to stare at her before accepting the menu from the waiter, flushing as she did so.

Angela did look stunning: her hair was down, and the ends just brushed her shoulders, and her blue eyes (had they always been so blue?) were outlined in neat black eyeliner. She was wearing a pretty short-sleeved blouse, blue with a floral pattern, and Fareeha suddenly appreciated just how unflattering her usual hospital clothing was.

“I mean,” she continued, after the waiter had left, “Your patients are lucky you don't dress like that all the time. I have a feeling you'd cause more accidents.”

Angela laughed softly, one hand going to cover her mouth.

“You _have_ gotten better at flirting,” she said, leaning forwards and propping her chin on one hand.

Fareeha blushed again, looking down at the menu without really seeing it in an attempt to compose herself.

“So,” Angela continued, “What did you do before you were a charming hospital barista? I think I would have noticed if you were always there.”

Fareeha's chances of getting through the meal without looking like a tomato looked like they were becoming increasingly slim.

Over pasta, she told Angela about her time in the army, and Angela feigned shock that a former soldier could be so bashful and tongue-tied. When Fareeha tried to tell her that soldiers weren't nearly as pretty as certain doctors, Angela just raised an eyebrow, and even that small gesture was enough to make Fareeha blush. She could have probably sat there for hours, talking to Angela and slowly cooking her face with the force of her own blushes, but they both had to work that evening and in any case, the restaurant would have probably evicted them before long.

“This was lovely,” she said, after the bill was paid, “I had a great time.”

“I did, too,” said Angela, smiling softly.

They hesitated for a moment, then both laughed.

“I guess we have to go,” said Fareeha, sure her disappointment was clear on her face.

“We'll do this again soon, yes?” said Angela.

“Of course.”

They both stood up, facing each other awkwardly for a moment, then Angela leaned in, standing on her toes to press a soft kiss to Fareeha's cheek.

“Goodbye,” she said.

It was a moment before Fareeha could talk, or move, and by that time Angela had left. Mutely, she pressed one hand to her cheek and smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might do a second chapter? It depends, I mean obviously this is just... very little as is but who knows if I'll be able to write more. This does feel very unfinished though.
> 
> update: i started chapter 2 & it will probably be finished tomorrow. currently it's more fluff! who needs plot when you have cute cuddly lesbians


	2. Chapter 2

If Hana had thought Fareeha was a useless lesbian before her date with Angela, it was hard to imagine what she thought of her now. The only subject that interested Fareeha was the doctor, and she turned every conversation to her date and how excited she was for the next time she could see her. She had even stopped her search for a new career, for something that she could be as passionate about as she had been about serving her country, now somewhat unwilling to leave the hospital where Angela worked. Despite the fact that one date was hardly anything, she still found herself idly daydreaming about a future together, although she kept her embarrassingly domestic fantasies to herself. Unfortunately, Angela is still a doctor, with far too little free time, and Fareeha's shifts were still irregular and frustratingly at odds with the doctor's. The next time they both had enough free time to do anything was in the middle of the night. As Angela pointed out, few enough places would be open then, but it didn't take much for Fareeha to convince her they'd find something to do.

Fareeha met the doctor outside of the hospital, following the end of her shift. Her hair was in its customary ponytail and her clothes were crumpled from the long shift, but she was (in Fareeha's eyes) as beautiful as was humanly possible – or perhaps more.

“You know,” said Fareeha as they walked, watching the way the street lights reflected off of Angela's hair, “The first time I saw you I was sure you were an angel.”

“Was that a compliment, or did you just happen to witness someone dying?” Angela teased, her smile lighting up her face in a way that made Fareeha's breath catch in her throat.

“It was a compliment!” she protested, “I mean, you just look so...”

She waved a hand vaguely in her direction, trying to indicate the impossible-to-describe beauty of the woman next to her. Angela laughed, soft and sweet.

“Well, in that case, you must be a classical goddess,” she said, looking thoughtfully up at Fareeha's (now blushing) face, “Greek, perhaps, or maybe Egyptian.”

“I _am_ Egyptian,” Fareeha said, “Well, half. My mother is. I'm not a goddess, though.”

“That's a shame,” she teased, nudging her side with her elbow, “I should have liked to meet a goddess.”

“I'll see what I can do,” she said, grinning involuntarily.

“For now, I'd just like to see what you're going to find for us to do in the middle of the night,” said Angela.

“Ah, about that,” she said, slowing her pace, “I had an idea.”

“Oh?”

“Let me show you.”

It was a long walk to the spot Fareeha was heading for, or it seemed long at that time of night, although it took less than an hour. Angela was slightly out of breath by the time they arrived; though not exactly unfit, the doctor didn't have Fareeha's extensively drilled stamina and it was beginning to show.

“I'm sorry about the walk,” said Fareeha, lowering her rucksack to the ground and crouching to open it, “But this is one of my favourite places around here.”

It was a longer walk from her home, but she liked to walk in her free time, heading out into the countryside and looking for – well, whatever she found. It was a peaceful way to spend her time. This spot in particular was one she had found a few weeks back, and it was a clear outcropping on a rise with a view out over the city. Now, despite the city lights, it gave them a clear view of the stars, and she just hoped Angela found it as romantic as she did.

“The view is lovely,” said Angela, looking out across the city, “I can see the hospital. And probably my house, although I couldn't tell you which one it is.”

“You'll have to show it to me later,” said Fareeha, spreading her picnic blanket out on the ground and sitting down.

Angela laughed, coming over to sit next to her, close enough that they just touched. Fareeha stared at the side of her face for a moment before shifting her gaze to the view.

“It's beautiful,” she said, glancing back at Angela before she lay down, “But I was hoping we could see the stars. It's hard in the city but out here...”

Her voice trailed off as Angela settled against her side, her head resting on Fareeha's shoulder.

“I can see the stars,” Angela said, pointing upwards, “That one is... part of Orion's belt, maybe.”

“Oh, I didn't know you were an expert on constellations,” she teased, and Angela laughed, “I know some of them, but I don't think I can point any out to you.”

“That's okay, we can make up our own. See that? That's a stethoscope.”

She traced out the shape on the sky with her index finger.

“Brilliant,” said Fareeha, raising her hand as well to point at another star, “Well, I'm naming this one after you.”

“My very own star,” Angela laughed, “You shouldn't have. And I didn't get you anything.”

“Well, I want the moon,” she said, moving her hand to point at the crescent moon.

“It's yours,” promised Angela, “I'll have it delivered tomorrow.”

Fareeha laughed. They both fell silent, their hands dropping down to rest against their chests, both of them staring quietly at the stars.

“This was such a nice idea,” said Angela eventually, twisting to look at Fareeha, “But I'm also getting cold now. Maybe we should head back?”

“Of course,” she said, stiffly pushing herself into a sitting position. It _was_ cold, although the warmth of Angela pressed against her side meant she had hardly noticed.

“I hope you can remember the way,” Angela said, rubbing her arms for warmth.

“Do you trust me?” asked Fareeha, looking up at her as she tucked the blanket away in her bag.

Angela just smiled.

“I'll take that as a yes,” she said, slipping her jacket off and offering it to the doctor, “Here. You're shivering.”

“I can't- Won't you be cold?”

Fareeha laughed, shaking her head.

“I'm an old soldier,” she said lightly, “I think I can handle the cold.”

The walk back seemed shorter, and they were soon on well-lit streets again, although they were just as empty. Fareeha hesitated as they turned towards the hospital – to get home, she should take a right here, but she didn't want their night to end now.

“So,” she said, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen, “What now?”

“Is it my turn to think of something, then?” said Angela, smiling, “I suppose that's only fair.”

“Do you have to go?” said Fareeha, hoping it sounded less desperate than it felt.

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “But I would like to go home.”

Fareeha's heart fell, and it must have showed on her face, because the doctor quickly continued.

“It's too cold to stay out here! Weren't you saying you wanted to see my house earlier?”

“Oh! I mean, if that's not an intrusion,” she said, her face flushing.

“Of course not,” said Angela, nudging her side, “It's not far. Well, I think by your standards we're there already.”

Angela's house was a small semi-detached on a quiet street, only a short walk from the hospital. She fumbled with her keys, cursing under her breath in what might have been German, before managing to open the door and lead the way inside. They were greeted with mewing as soon as Angela flicked on the light, and Fareeha grinned.

“You have a cat?” she said, looking around the living room for the source of the noise.

“Yes, he's ever so needy. He gets upset every time I leave the house.”

The cat in question rushed over, bell tinkling, and began winding around Fareeha's legs, still mewing desperately.

“He's beautiful,” said Fareeha, leaning down to pet his tabby fur, “And I don't blame him.”

Angela laughed, and Fareeha blushed when she realised the accidental flirtation implied by her words.

“He's called Schnurri,” she said, reaching down to scratch behind his ears, “Don't sit down unless you're not planning on getting up again. He'll sit on any human that's vaguely horizontal.”

“Is that German?” Fareeha asked, nudging the cat aside so she could unlace her boots, “What does it mean?”

“It's from the German for purring,” said Angela, slipping off her shoes and heading through the living room, “Would you like a drink? Something to eat?”

“A drink would be nice,” she said, pulling off her shoes and then returning to petting the cat, who was, true to his name, purring very loudly.

“I'm going to make coffee, would you like some?” Angela said from what Fareeha assumed was the kitchen, the sound of clinking cups and boiling water muffled by the wall, “I have decaf.”

“That's great, thank you.”

“How do you take it?”

“Black. Two sugars.”

Fareeha sat carefully on the sofa, looking around the room, which was clean but sparse. It seemed nice but not especially homely, as if it was only temporary accommodation. Just as she'd been warned, Schnurri took it as an immediate invitation, and leapt onto her lap, still purring and impatiently nuzzling her hands.

“You're beautiful, aren't you?” she said softly, scratching under his chin, “Such a beautiful little kitty, yes?”

“I can see my cat is already outshining me,” said Angela from the doorway, leaning around the corner to look at them, “I'm sure you already realised he's at least ten times more beautiful than I am.”

Fareeha laughed, twisting her neck to look at the doctor, her fingers still softly scratching the cat, who was collapsing into a blissful heap on her lap.

“Not quite,” she said, “Although it may be getting close.”

“I'm glad you're a cat person,” said Angela, returning to the kitchen to pour the coffee, “If you hadn't liked him I'm afraid this would be our last date.”

“You know, the ancient Egyptians used to worship cats,” said Fareeha, accepting her cup with a smile, “I think I'm genetically predisposed towards liking them.”

“Maybe,” she said, sipping her coffee and settling onto the sofa next to Fareeha, leaning ever so slightly into her side, “Do you have one?”

“No, I haven't since I was a child. We had this cat, she was ever so fat and she had a savage temper, she must have lived at least 20 years, but I just _adored_ her,” she said, setting her coffee down on a coaster so that she could (incredibly subtly) put her arm around Angela's shoulders and continue petting the cat with her free hand, “I had scratches up my arms throughout my whole childhood, it's probably a miracle I didn't lose a finger.”

Angela laughed, leaning into her, her hands cradled around her mug.

“I never had a cat before Schnurri,” she said, “I got him a few years ago when a friend accused me of becoming a spinster. He said I was probably going to start keeping cats, so obviously I had to adopt one immediately.”

“Obviously,” laughed Fareeha, resting her cheek against the top of Angela's head, “I'm sure he's the luckiest cat in the world.”

“He's certainly the sweetest,” said Angela, reaching across to pet him, “Aren't you, _kleiner_?”

Fareeha's coffee ended up going cold, but between the cat on her lap and the doctor leaning against her side, she didn't particularly mind. They had been sitting in silence for some time when Fareeha heard a soft snoring noise, and realised that Angela had fallen asleep on her. It was so perfectly domestic she almost stopped breathing in a fruitless attempt not to disturb her. Her leg was beginning to go to sleep and the arm trapped under the doctor was going numb but even so, she would have happily stayed there indefinitely. Angela shifted, mumbling something incomprehensible, and moved so even more of her weight was resting on Fareeha. The cat looked up, offended at this development, then hopped off of Fareeha's lap, slinking out of the room. She missed his warmth immediately, but was quickly consoled by Angela's head sliding onto her chest, her arm resting gently across her waist and her knees pressing into her hip. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so there's almost certainly gonna be at least one more chapter now anyway i entered this chapter like "okay let's write some GAY SHIT" and then i was like hey but what if mercy had a cat and then i got distracted bc i love cats far too much  
> also? it's way too easy to write pharah being hopelessly gay for mercy bc i too am hopelessly gay for mercy
> 
> ALSO i forgot to mention but thank u [bella](http://archiveofourown.org/users/killingmonsterswritingthings/pseuds/killingmonsterswritingthings) for help with the german stuff!!


	3. Chapter 3

She woke up stiff and sore, and immediately regretted falling asleep, but the way the soft dawn light illuminated Angela's still sleeping face made her rethink that. The clock on the wall told her it was approaching 6am – far too early to be waking up, but she didn't think she could fall back asleep like this. She heard the soft clacking of claws on the hard floor, and then Schnurri had leapt onto the arm of the sofa and was meowing in her ear.

“Shh, you'll wake her,” she said, gently scratching behind his ear as Angela shifted on her lap, making soft sleepy noises.

The cat meowed again, not seeming to care that his owner was sleeping, and she moved again, her eyes opening slightly before drifting shut again.

“What time...?” Angela said, her voice trailing off sleepily.

“Nearly 6,” said Fareeha, automatically lifting her hand to stroke the doctor's hair, “You can keep on sleeping.”

“Mm,” she said, pushing herself up slightly and then collapsing back against Fareeha's shoulder, “'S warm. Comfy.”

“Glad one of us is comfortable,” Fareeha said drily, “I make a good pillow, then?”

“The best.”

They stayed silent for a moment, Angela clearly trying to force herself into wakefulness.

“Sorry I fell asleep on you,” she said eventually, finally managing to sit up. Fareeha missed her weight immediately.

“It's fine,” she said, taking advantage of her freedom to stretch out her aching back, “I fell asleep, too. Besides, you're like a cat. Once you're sitting on me there's nothing that could make me move.”

Angela laughed softly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and then settled her head back against Fareeha's shoulder.

“It's all that walking,” she said, “You tired me out.”

“I'll have to remember that,” said Fareeha, grinning, “Maybe I should take you walking more often.”

“Mmm.”

They sat there quietly, still making the transition from asleep to awake, until they were interrupted by Fareeha's stomach grumbling loudly.

“Breakfast?” asked Angela, looking up at her with a cheeky smile.

“Please.”

Fareeha followed her eagerly into the kitchen, her limbs stiff and uncoordinated.

“I don't have much in,” said Angela apologetically, opening the freezer with a sharp tug and bending over to look inside, “I should have- yes, I've got bread. Will toast do?”

“Toast is great,” said Fareeha, leaning against the counter.

Angela pulled out four frozen slices of bread and dropped them into the toaster, then reached across Fareeha to open a cupboard.

“I don't think I have much in the way of spreads, either,” she said. Fareeha was paying more attention to the way her hair curled around her ear.

“Anything is fine.”

“Peanut butter?”

“Great,” she said, resisting the urge to reach up and tuck a stray lock of hair behind the doctor's ear.

Angela smiled at her as she took the jar of peanut butter out of the cupboard, and then crossed the room to get plates and a knife. Fareeha stared hungrily at the toaster, willing it to work faster. Angela smiled at her impatience as she set the plates down on the counter.

“It won't be long,” she said, standing on tiptoe to peer into the toaster, “Do you want something to drink? I don't have any tea, but there's, uh, I think there might be orange juice?”

“Water is fine,” Fareeha said, as her stomach rumbled again.

Angela reached into another cupboard and retrieved two glasses before filling them up at the sink.

“Here,” she said, handing one to Fareeha.

The toaster popped, making Fareeha jump and spill water – thankfully, only a little – on her socks. Angela laughed.

“Sorry,” Fareeha said, putting her glass down on the counter, “It startled me.”

Angela smiled indulgently at her, and finished spreading peanut butter on the second slice of toast before handing her the plate. They stood in the kitchen, quietly eating their toast and exchanging shy glances as the soft light brightened. Angela finished first, and bent to put her plate in the dishwasher before glancing up at the clock.

“I should feed Schnurri,” she said, reaching for a bag of dry food and a ceramic bowl, “He'll be thrilled, I usually get up later when I don't have an early shift.”

Sure enough, the sound of cat food hitting ceramic had a tabby blur appearing in the kitchen and winding around Angela's legs, meowing frantically as if he hadn't eaten in days.

“ _Ja, ich weiss_ ,” she said, laughing as she tried to cross the room without tripping over the cat, “ _Du hast großen Hunger_ , hmm?”

Schnurri continued purring as he ate, the sound distorted by his chewing, and Angela scratched his ears before standing up and returning the bag of cat food to its place on top of the cabinet. She had to stand on tiptoe to reach it, and Fareeha lost the opportunity to offer to help, too distracted by the way her shirt rode up ever so slightly.

“I should probably go,” she said reluctantly, tearing her eyes away and feeling her face heat up, “I have work later and I'd like to sleep before then.”

“That's probably a good idea,” said Angela, smiling softly, “I think I need to sleep as well. In my real bed.”

“What, wasn't I good enough?” Fareeha teased, making the doctor laugh. The sound, the sight, the way she laughed was so beautiful that Fareeha briefly contemplated taking up comedy just to see it again, and again, and again.

“You woke me up too soon,” she said, still grinning.

Fareeha hesitated for a moment before making for the door.

“Next time, I'll let you sleep in,” she said, pulling on her left boot.

“Thank you.”

Angela watched her put her boots on, standing awkwardly next to the door. Finally, she was ready to leave, and the doctor unlocked the door for her. She stood hesitantly in the doorway for a moment.

“We should hang out again soon,” she said, stepping outside and turning around. The door was set high enough that they were at approximately the same eye level now.

“I'd like that,” Angela said. Shyly, she leaned across and kissed Fareeha gently, her lips brushing softly against hers and then gone. Fareeha was frozen for a moment, then her whole face lit up with a smile.

“I'll see you soon,” she promised, waving as she walked away.

“See you soon,” Angela echoed.

Fareeha raised her fingers to her lips as soon as the door was shut behind her. A feeling of elation was quickly overpowering her tiredness, and the walk home suddenly seemed effortless. She floated on clouds the whole way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one is so short! it just felt like a natural place to end it. anyway i'm literally the Worst Writer Ever so there's not gonna be an update schedule or a plan or anything those organised people do for this it'll basically just... come when i feel like it. so sorry about that >.< i hope you like it anyway!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter but I couldn't resist updating! Who needs plot when you have soft gays who love each other?

“So, did you sleep with her yet?”

“ _Hana_ ,” Fareeha hissed, her face reddening, “That's so inappropriate.”

“You didn't?” Hana continued, ignoring the glares her co-worker was giving her, “Have you even kissed her yet?”

Fareeha's face seemed to answer for her.

“God, you're _such_ a useless lesbian,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Shut up,” said Fareeha, turning to wipe down the counter even though it was already clean.

“Nope,” said Hana, smirking, then glancing up and adding, “Oh, look, it's your _girlfriend_.”

Fareeha turned around to see a flash of blonde hair approaching. She didn't have time to make an acerbic reply before the doctor was standing in front of the register, an expectant smile on her face. She looked thoughtfully at the menu for a moment before looking at Fareeha.

“Black coffee?” Fareeha guessed, already reaching for a medium cup.

“I'm too predictable, aren't I?” Angela said. Fareeha blushed.

“Lucky guess,” she said, coughing into her hand before she turned to make the coffee. She knew Hana was giving her a look, but she refused to look at her, staring adamantly at the machine in front of her.

“You're ever so cute when you're flustered,” Angela said, as Fareeha turned to hand her her coffee.

“I- Oh! Thank you,” Fareeha said, blushing harder than ever. She could tell without looking that Hana was rolling her eyes.

“I'll see you soon,” Angela said, grinning before she walked off, leaving a stunned Fareeha in her wake.

“God, you can't not fuck her,” Hana said.

“Please shut up,” Fareeha said, squeezing her eyes shut.

_[received 14:32] Hey! Are you free this weekend?_

_[sent 14:35] Let me check._

_[sent 14:38] I can be._

_[received 14:39] Dinner?_

_[sent 14:40] Yes!_

Fareeha grinned, clutching her phone to her chest, ridiculously happy to have another date with the pretty doctor. There was just one thing she needed to sort out first. Sighing, she lowered her phone and pulled up her contacts list.

“Hi, mum,” she said, as soon as her mother picked up.

“Fareeha, how are you?”

“I'm great,” she said, tucking her legs underneath herself, “I just need to rearrange our dinner this Saturday.”

“Oh, you have a date? That's wonderful. It's that pretty doctor you like, isn't it? When am I going to meet her?”

“Mum, please, we've been out twice, it's not like we're about to get married,” Fareeha said, rolling her eyes.

“Well, you never know. You've been alone too long, _ḥabībti_.”

“ _Mum_ ,” she said, her tone reproachful, “I just wanted to rearrange dinner, I'm not calling you to talk about my love life.”

“Come over on Sunday, you can tell me all about your date.”

“Hm,” Fareeha said, quietly resolving to no such thing.

“Or you can sulk.”

“I'll see you Sunday, mum,” Fareeha said, hanging up before her mother could get off any more teasing words. Were all mothers like this, or was she just lucky? She didn't suppose there were many people like Ana Amari out there.

Saturday couldn't come soon enough for Fareeha, despite how nervous she was about their date, which was increased by the fact that this was their first dinner date, at a nice restaurant, where dressing appropriately would be important. Even though it wasn't a first date, she still wanted to make a good impression, and she spent close to half an hour on her eyeliner alone. It came out a little thicker than she'd originally intended, but at least it was even. She didn't have many clothes that were appropriate – this wasn't something she did often – but she had a black dress that she figured would work as well as anything. She hesitated over shoes for a while – Angela was a few inches shorter than her, but she didn't have any smart flats, so she eventually settled on the lowest heels she could find (a pair of simple black pumps). She ended up being ready a good half hour before she had to leave, and spent that time pacing anxiously and checking and re-checking herself in the mirror, second-guessing every decision she had made. Her hair was loose, falling to her shoulders, with a small braid wrapped in gold on either side. It was a hairstyle she wore often, and which suited her, but she was suddenly wondering whether she should have put more effort in. It was too late to do anything else, so she just pushed it to the back of her mind and left, climbing nervously into the taxi that had just pulled up outside her home.

Angela met her outside the restaurant, looking even more stunning than ever if that was even possible. Her hair was loose again, and she was wearing a blue dress with a flared skirt that fell gracefully to her knees. Although she was also wearing heels, they were even lower than the ones Fareeha wore, and so the height difference between them was even larger.

“Gosh, you're so tall,” Angela said, greeting her with a hug.

“Are you sure you aren't just short?” Fareeha countered, stepping back from the hug to smile at her.

“I thought _I_ was tall until I met you,” she said, pushing open the door to the restaurant.

“I'm not _that_ tall,” Fareeha protested, following her inside, “I'm a perfectly normal height.”

Angela laughed before giving her name to the hostess, who checked their reservation before leading them to a table.

“Personally, I think I'm a perfect height,” Angela said, smirking at her over the top of her menu.

“I think so, too,” said Fareeha, a blush colouring her face.

“Oh, that's so sweet I think I just developed diabetes,” said Angela, pressing one hand to her smiling mouth.

“Don't tease,” she said, her blush deepening, “I didn't think about what I was saying.”

“No, no, I like it,” she said, lowering her hand and grinning, “I think it's cute.”

Fareeha hid her face behind her menu. It felt like her face was going to catch on fire.

“I think _you're_ cute,” Angela said, reaching across to tug her menu down.

Fareeha buried her face in her hands instead, too embarrassed to talk.

“Oh no,” Angela said, barely suppressed laughter evident in her tone, “Maybe we should talk about something else. Before you combust.”

“Please,” Fareeha said, voice muffled by her hands.

“Hmm... The weather was nice today,” she said, her voice still sounding gleeful.

“It was okay,” Fareeha said, lowering her hands and looking at the menu again. Angela laughed softly.

“I can't talk about the weather, I'm sorry,” she said, and Fareeha met her gaze for a moment before looking back down at the menu, “You look beautiful tonight.”

“No, you do,” Fareeha said, shaking her head and making Angela laugh.

“Thank you would do,” she said, still smiling, “Anyway, you _are_ beautiful. Radiant.”

“If you keep doing that I'm going to combust again,” Fareeha warned her, her face already beginning to heat up.

“How am I meant to sit here and not compliment you?” Angela said, with an exaggerated pout.

“Let's talk about how beautiful you are instead,” she suggested, glancing up to smile at her, “Blue really suits you. It brings out your eyes.”

“Oh, sounds like someone's an expert,” Angela teased.

“Maybe I am,” she said, coolly flipping the page, “I know many things.”

Angela giggled.

“I'm sure you do,” she said, “I'll have to consult you next time I'm getting dressed.”

The possible connotations of that had Fareeha blushing again.

“Oh, look, there you go again,” Angela teased, “I seem to have a talent for embarrassing you.”

“I think it's just my natural state,” Fareeha said, shaking her head.

“Maybe,” she said, “Perhaps you should choose another topic.”

“Actually, there's something I've been wondering,” Fareeha said, somewhat hesitantly, “Is your hair colour natural?”

“Mostly,” she said, “I started lightening it a few years ago, but I've always been a natural blonde. It just tends to darken with age.”

“Huh. I thought it looked too pretty to be entirely natural.”

“Now I'm not sure if you're complimenting me or insulting me.”

Fareeha felt her face reddening again.

“I meant it as a compliment,” she said hurriedly, “I just have a terminal case of foot-in-mouth disease.”

“I'm sure I can cure that for you,” Angela said.

Their food came slowly, but the conversation flowed so easily, despite Fareeha's embarrassment, that they didn't mind. It was probably delicious, but Fareeha's memory of the taste was immediately overwhelmed by Angela – how she looked, how she sounded, how it felt when their hands brushed against each other accidentally. Too soon, the bill was paid and they were standing up to leave. They paused outside the door, hesitant and unwilling to leave.

“I had fun,” Fareeha said, breaking the brief silence that had fallen.

“I did too,” Angela said, taking a small step closer.

“I really like you,” she said, somewhat nervously.

“I really like you too,” said Angela, her face lighting up with a smile.

Her smile was like the sun, almost blinding, but Fareeha couldn't look away. They were standing so close now, almost touching. If she was brave enough...

She didn't have to be. Angela's hands slid around her face ever so gently and tugged, bringing her down enough for a soft kiss. Automatically, Fareeha's hands slipped around her waist. The kiss lasted a moment before Angela dropped back down, and Fareeha realised she had been standing on her toes to kiss her. The image was oddly endearing.

“Wow,” she said, her hands still resting on Angela's waist. Angela smiled. Her hands were still on Fareeha's face.

“Wow,” Angela agreed.

They stood like that for a moment, just looking at each other, shivering slightly in the cold night air.

“We should go,” Fareeha said eventually, her voice reluctant, “It's cold out.”

“We should,” Angela agreed, finally lowering her hands and stepping back, “I'll see you soon?”

Her voice rose slightly at the end, turning it into a question.

“I'll see you soon,” Fareeha said. 


	5. Chapter 5

They ended up not seeing each other for some time, their schedules managing to misalign to the point that they barely even managed to see each other at the hospital. Fareeha was, predictably, a useless lesbian about it, getting on Hana's nerves with her inability to talk about much else.

“Do you think I'm pathetic? God, I'm pathetic, aren't I?”

“Fareeha,” Hana said, slamming her hands on the counter, “You're very gay, and just a bit pathetic, and can you _please_ talk about _anything_ else? I am _begging_.”

“God, I'm sorry, I just-” Fareeha stopped as her phone beeped from her pocket.

“Oh my God,” Hana said, grinning gleefully, “She even has you using your phone _at work_. Who even are you?”

“Shut up,” Fareeha said, pulling her phone out and reading the text, “Oh! She wants to know when I get off.”

“Isn't that up to her?” said Hana, winking.

“You're terrible,” she said, typing out her reply just a little more slowly than usual solely to annoy her teenage co-worker.

“Whatever,” she said, sticking her tongue out, “I'm just glad your shift is nearly over. I don't think I could listen to you talking about your _girlfriend_ for another hour.”

Fareeha blushed, resolving not to mention the doctor for the rest of her shift. She almost succeeded – almost being the operative word there. By the end of her shift, Hana was almost more pleased to see Angela approaching than Fareeha was.

“Angela! Hi,” Fareeha said, grinning broadly, “Perfect timing. I'm ready to leave, if you are?”

“Please,” Hana added, giving Fareeha an aggrieved look.

“I am,” said Angela, smiling warmly, “Shall we?”

Fareeha accepted the hand Angela was offering her, avoiding the look Hana was giving her, and let her lead the way outside. It was just starting to get dark, the sky turning orange and pink with the soft light of the setting sun.

“So, what's the plan?” Fareeha asked. Their hands were still linked. Angela's hand felt small and warm in her grip.

“I was thinking we could eat at my place,” Angela said, turning her head to smile at her, “It's more relaxed than going out.”

“That sounds great with me,” Fareeha said, grinning down at her. She nearly walked into a post, distracted from watching where she was going by Angela, but thankfully side-stepped it at the last moment.

“The problem is, I'm a terrible cook,” she admitted, “Do you mind getting take-out?”

“Take-out is great,” Fareeha assured her, “I'll cook for you some time. I'm not an amazing chef, but I'm half-decent if I say so myself.”

“That sounds brilliant,” Angela said, her face lighting up with a sunshine smile, “So, what do you want to get? I could go for some Chinese right now.”

“Chinese sounds good,” she said, “Do you have anywhere in mind?”

“There's a good place I know,” said Angela, gently swinging their linked hands, “I've got their menu at home somewhere. We can call in for delivery when we get there.”

“Excellent,” Fareeha said. There was a moment, as their eyes met and they smiled, where she thought about kissing her, but she missed the chance. They walked along quietly, and Fareeha thought about kissing her later on, over Chinese take-out.

They reached Angela's house soon enough, and it already felt familiar to Fareeha. She sat on the sofa scratching Schnurri behind the ears whilst Angela searched for the right take-out menu in the drawer of her desk.

“Ah, here it is,” she said, triumphantly flourishing the menu, “What do you want?”

“Order your favourites,” Fareeha said, shifting her hand as the cat collapsed against her, clearly ecstatic about the attention, “I'm sure you have good taste.”

Angela laughed at that, pulling out her phone and dialling the number. Fareeha zoned out while she ordered, focusing on the purring cat that was demanding her entire attention. He was sprawled across her lap, half of him trailing on the sofa, and his purring was loud enough that Fareeha was half-certain they could probably hear it on the other end of the phone.

“It'll be about half an hour,” Angela said, putting her phone down on the desk and coming over to join Fareeha on the sofa, “He's pathetic, isn't he?” She smiled at the cat, leaning across to scratch his exposed belly.

“He's perfect,” Fareeha said defensively.

“That, too.” Angela tucked her legs up beside her, leaning across the cat to rest her head on Fareeha's shoulder. Fareeha felt her heart speed up, ever so slightly, at that small amount of contact, and she thought that she was probably the pathetic one.

“Don't listen to her,” she said, addressing the cat now, who couldn't care less, “She's just jealous.”

Angela laughed.

“How did you know?” she teased, gently petting the cat, “I'd _much_ rather it was me draped across your lap.”

Fareeha flushed, her ears getting hot. She wasn't sure exactly how to articulate a reply; her tongue seemed to have stopped working. The smile Angela was giving her just made it worse.

“You're adorable,” Angela said, and Fareeha's brain chose that moment to point out that she had a single dimple when she smiled like this. She was no more capable of speech in that moment than Schnurri was.

“I'm sorry,” Angela continued, her smile giving away the lie, “It's just so cute when you get all tongue-tied like this.”

“You're mean,” Fareeha said, pouting. Angela laughed, but she didn't argue. Fareeha returned her attention to the cat, although she was highly aware of Angela's head, pressed warmly against her shoulder. Schnurri loved being the centre of attention, purring louder than ever.

“He really loves you,” Angela said, stroking his belly, “I'm almost jealous. _Du bist ein kleiner pelziger Verräter_ , Schnurri.”

“Jealous of who?” Fareeha asked, grinning.

“Hmm. Both of you,” she said, reaching up to pat the top of Fareeha's head. She combed her fingers gently through hair, pausing at the bottom before lowering her hand. “You have soft hair.”

“Softer than him?”

“Maybe,” she said, stroking the cat for a comparison, “You're more likely to use conditioner.”

“But he probably washes his more often.”

Angela laughed. “I hope you don't use the same method,” she said, nudging Fareeha with her elbow.

“No, I'm not that flexible,” Fareeha said, shaking her head and suppressing a smile.

“That's a shame,” Angela said, her smile suggestive.

Fareeha laughed, ducking her head in an attempt to hide her blush behind her hair. “You're the worst,” she said.

“I thought you liked that about me.”

“Maybe,” Fareeha said, still refusing to look at her, “I don't know. I like all of you.”

“You can't say something that sweet and heartfelt while I'm in the middle of teasing you,” said Angela. Her blush was quite impressive, her skin glowing and the bright red tips of her ears poking through her hair.

“It's my revenge,” said Fareeha, grinning. Somehow embarrassing Angela had made her even prettier, despite the fact that her complexion now resembled a tomato.

They were both saved from further embarrassment by a knock at the door, and Angela got up to collect their food from the delivery girl. Fareeha followed her eagerly into the kitchen, where she was taking out plates and opening cartons of delicious-smelling Chinese food.

“Take whatever you want,” Angela said, handing her a fork.

“Mm,” Fareeha said, eagerly loading her plate with food, “It smells good.”

Angela grinned, carrying her plate back to the sofa. “Don't eat it too fast,” she called back towards the kitchen, “I'd hate for you to choke and die on our date.”

Fareeha laughed. “Don't worry,” she said, coming through to join her, “I'll be careful.”

Angela smiled, hiding her full mouth behind her hand. She chewed and swallowed before talking. “Do you like it?” she asked, indicating Fareeha's plate.

“I do,” Fareeha said, covering her mouth as she spoke, “It's good.”

“Good.” Angela smiled before taking another bite. She was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, facing Fareeha, who was turned partially towards her with one leg folded underneath her and the other dangling over the edge of the sofa.

“This was a good idea,” said Fareeha. She was making a conscious effort to eat slowly, taking her time to enjoy the food – and being careful not to choke. Angela grinned, nodding in agreement. She was too busy eating to speak for the moment. Fareeha was watching her, trying not to be too obvious but realising that was a battle she lost before it began. It was amazing; she was beautiful even with sauce running down her chin.

“You have a little, uh,” Fareeha said, tapping her own chin.

“Oops,” said Angela, wiping her chin with one hand, “Did I get it all?”

“Not quite.” Fareeha reached across, sweeping her thumb across Angela's chin to wipe up the last bit of sauce. She stuck her thumb in her mouth without thinking, and then blushed when Angela laughed at her.

“That was a smooth move,” she said, licking sauce off her fingers, “I didn't know you had it in you.”

“Shut up,” Fareeha said, lowering her gaze to her plate. She was blushing furiously.

“It was sweet,” Angela protested. Fareeha took another bite to have an excuse not to respond. Angela smiled at her, returning to her food as well. Despite her effort to eat slowly, Fareeha was soon finished, whilst Angela's plate was still half full.

“Wow, that was fast,” Angela said, as Fareeha put her empty plate on the coffee table.

“Maybe you're just slow,” Fareeha countered, reaching across to steal a spring roll from her plate.

“Hey! That's mine.”

Fareeha grinned, biting off half of it. “Too slow,” she said, holding the other half out to Angela.

“Thief,” Angela said, but she leant forwards and ate half-eaten roll out of Fareeha's hand. Fareeha laughed at that.

“What are you?” she teased, wiping her hand on her trousers, “You have hands, you know.”

“Yours are just as good as mine,” Angela said, sticking her tongue out at Fareeha and making her laugh.

“True,” she said, taking Angela's fork out of her hand and using it to scoop up some rice, then offering it to her. “Open wide.”

Angela laughed, but she opened her mouth obediently, letting Fareeha feed her.

“You're like a baby bird,” Fareeha said, grinning as she fed Angela another forkful.

“Cheep cheep,” she said, taking her fork back, “All right, let me finish this myself.”

“All right,” Fareeha said. She was watching her eat with a soft smile on her face, calm and contented. “I guess I should think about getting home. Not sure I want to be walking back in the dark.”

“I guess,” Angela said, her tone carefully nonchalant, “Or you could sleep with me. God! Wait, no-”

“Wow, I-”

“No, I didn't mean it like that,” Angela said, shaking her head, her cheeks bright red, “I mean, you could sleep over. I mean, not that I don't want to sleep with you, um, like that, I just mean, that would be a bit forward, uh, God, I'm digging a deeper hole, aren't I?”

“No, I understand,” Fareeha said, smiling, “I'd like to sleep with you at some point in the undefined future but probably not tonight as well.”

“I'm glad we got that cleared up,” Angela said, still very red, “So, would you like that? To stay over, I mean.”

“I'd love to.” Fareeha was trying not to grin too widely, and mostly failing. “Not to sound corny, but I'll take any excuse to spend more time with you.”

“How do you get so flustered when I flirt with you _at all_ and then turn around and give me lines like that?” asked Angela. Her laughter was knocking rice off her plate and onto the sofa.

“Natural talent,” Fareeha said, shrugging.

If Fareeha's teasing made it impossible for Angela to finish her dinner before it got cold, she didn't complain. If anything, she was equally to blame. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a bit longer for this chapter but [waves hands vaguely at everything else I've been writing] Stuff Happened. Anyway, enjoy more lesbian fluff & also the knowledge that there's at least one more chapter left in this before i wrap things up because let's be honest there's already too little plot to justify this much fic
> 
> OH and thanks to Bella as always for the German help <3


End file.
